What you Want
by ellaa
Summary: Leah and Jacob


Together, they wondered up the winding path towards the house atop the hill. It was a cool night, and the wind was sharp on the girls face. She pulled her leather jacket tighter against her, and lengthened her stride, as the moon dipped behind the clouds. "So, are you staying the night?" the tall boy beside her asked, not meeting her eyes. The girl smiled slightly, and ducked her head to avoid hitting a low hanging tree branch. "No, I'm not staying." The boy nodded his head, and reached out to take the girls hand.

The girl squeezed the boy's hand, and led him off the track, towards a thicket of pines. She dropped the boy's hand, and turned to look up into his face. She stepped closer to the boy, so they were separated only by a breath, and reached up to trace a finger over his lips. "This is what you wanted" she said slowly, moving her other hand up to the opening of his flannel shirt. The skin exposed there, was tanned and warm beneath her palm, and his heart beat was sure and steady. The boy continued to avoid her eyes, as she very slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and tossed it onto the ground.

The boy watched out of lowered lids, as the girl pulled out her hair tie, and let her dark hair fall in waves down her back. She then slid off her jacket, and the gentle thud of it hitting the pine covered floor, forced the boy to raise his eyes. The girl met his questioning gaze, and raised her arms above her head. He stepped forward, and peeled her singlet off, his fingers tingling when he touched her bare stomach and shoulders.

"This is what _you_ want" the boy growled, as his hands ran down to the small of her back. The girl pushed the boy back roughly against a tree, laughing huskily when the boy hissed in surprise. She reached down to the buckle of the boy's belt, her fingers teasing. "Don't flatter yourself."

The boy roughly clasped the girl's wrists, and spun her around so that her back was now pressed against the tree. He pressed his body up against hers, so they were chest to chest, and the girl was unable to move. "Why do you keep doing this shit?" the boy very nearly screamed. "Why won't you once in your fucking life, let me in?"

His lips are like plumbs, sweet and rich they do taste. He doesn't realize it, but when he's angry or serious, he chews on his bottom lip.

"This is what you wanted." The girl said calmly, looking up into the boys angered face. "And this is all you are going to get."

The boy, is not really a boy. He is a man. He looks like a man; tall, broad shouldered and strong. He talks like a man; deeply, with a voice like honey. He has the eyes of a man; perceptive and dark. He is courageous and self-sacrificing like a man; willing to defend what he loves to his last gasping breath.

But his heart… God his heart. His heart is that of a boys; open, and eager to love.

The girl pulled her hands out of the boys grip, and reached down once more to the buckle of his belt. With a deft move she had it undone, and moved her hand further south, to the zipper of his jeans. The boy once again, knocked her hand away, and glared down at her.

"I sure as hell, never wanted you like this." The boy exclaimed loudly. "I never wanted us to be like this." He took her by the shoulders roughly, but when his lips came down on hers they were excruciatingly gentle. Breaking the kiss, the boy pulled away from the girl's mouth and leant his forehead against hers. "I never wanted this…" the boy whispered.

The girl really is beautiful. With her dark eyes, and her dark hair, and her dark heart. She is all smooth almond skin, and deliberate graceful movements. She is thunder and lightning, and the wind and the rain. She is desire, and power, and strength all wrapped up in one deadly package.

"I never wanted us to be something that I was ashamed off. Something that we keep secret, like its wrong, and dark, and dirty." The boy stepped away from the girl, and reached down to pick up his shirt.

"Jake, where is this coming from?" Asked the girl quietly, stepping towards him. Holding his gaze, she reached down to her own jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper. "You've been more than happy, doing this "wrong" and "dirty" thing for months." She wriggled out of her denim jeans, and slid them slowly down her thighs. Stepping out of them, she moved towards him, smiling suggestively.

The boy swallowed loudly, as he drank in the sight of the girl. Under the light of the moon, she shimmered. More lovely and cold than the night itself. "Well, I can't do it anymore" the boy said, looking away from the sight of her. "You deserve more. We deserve more."

The girl stopped smiling, and narrowed her eyes. "Jake, there is no _we_." She closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around his neck, binding him to her_. "We _are nothing."

Earlier that evening, the girl had found a shell on the beach. It was tiny, and smooth, and the colour of pearl. She'd picked it up and held it gently between her palms. When she thought the boy wasn't looking she'd slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. The boy hadn't said anything, but leaned down to pick up his own shell. He'd smiled quietly when he realized that it was actually a stone, but pocketed it anyway.

The boy stepped around the girl, and picked her pile of clothes off the floor. He put his own shirt around her, and buttoned it up. Although she was tall for a girl, his shirt was huge on her, covering her completely to the knees. "Come on Leah" the boy said reaching down to take her hand "I'll walk you home."

The house atop the hill was small, and wooden. It was pale cream, and covered in shadows. Roses grew near the fence; delicate and pink. And a silver chime hung on the porch; tinkling in the breeze. But the garden was overgrown; a host of plants and shrubs battling for dominance. There were piles of leaves; golden and red, that needed to be raked. The house was melancholy; the flyscreen in the porch door broken, and no light shining inside the house.

"Leah, this place needs to be cleaned up" the boy said, pushing an overhanging plant out of the way. The girl said nothing, but took her pile of clothes out of the boy's large hands, and walked up the stairs to the veranda. She heard the sound of the boy's footsteps following behind her, but she didn't turn around. She opened the door, and stepped inside, slamming it behind her as she went.

Inside her small wooden house, the girl leaned back against the door, and banged her head hard against it, before sliding down onto the floor. Long ago, she had learnt the power that came from being cold. It meant control over emotions. Enemies. Life. After all it was ice; unassuming, enduring, encompassing, that has always shaped the world. And it was ice, the girl knew, that ran in her veins.

But the boy, God the boy. He was fire; intense, overwhelming, unknowable. He was warmth, and heat, and emotion. As cold as the girl was, she felt it whenever they touched, whenever they kissed, whenever their bodies moved together in that ancient dance.

The boy was right, _it_ was dirty. _It_ was wrong. _It_ was something to be ashamed of. And it was her fault. It was all her fucking fault.

She'd wanted it like this, she'd forced them to be like this. The boy had shown up one night on her porch. He'd been drunk, and angry, and his hands had been calloused and beautiful. The girl had been smoking, and bored, and had let him inside. The boy had stumbled in, jeans torn at the knees, and fell into one of her chairs. "Why Leah, why the fuck do I do this to myself?" the boy had slurred, rubbing his hands across his face, "Fucking, why do I do it?" The girl leaning against the doorway, had sauntered over, her hips swinging. She'd placed a hand softly on his cheek, and smiled coldly. "Because you are an idiot."

The boy had looked up into the girls face, more surprised at the contact, than the girl's words. "Yes, yeah, I'm an idiot." He'd said reaching out a hand tentatively, to stroke her cheek.

He'd been drunk, and she'd been lonely, and before they knew what was happening, she was straddling him, and his hands, his beautiful, large hands had been up under her thin shirt, and against her breasts. She'd moaned hotly, and ran her nails down his back, leaving light marks in his skin. He'd lifted her up easily, and laid her down on the hard wooden table, pulling off her shirt and underwear as he did so. They'd came together then, roughly, and with an urgency that left him with cuts so deep, that blood ran red down his chest. However, even then the boy's hands had touched her gently, as though she was glass; fragile and beautiful.

Once they were done, the girl had disentangled herself from the boy immediately. She'd removed the boy's arm from around her waist, and pushed him off her roughly. "You can sleep on the couch if you want," the girl had said, still panting slightly. "At least until you sober up a bit." She'd then stretched her arms above her head, and slinked off to her bedroom, leaving the boy alone in her small, white kitchen.

Over the next few months, the girl and boy had fucked, again and again. On the beach, in the woods, and in the parking lot of the small supermarket. They existed only in the dark, like a shadow or an echo, or a night blooming flower. The girl hated the light of day, hated how bright the fucking sun was. She belonged to the night, it was here where she felt understood. The moon asked no questions, and the waves that broke against the shore, were more peaceful than any lullaby. She'd dragged the boy down into her shadow world, binding him to her with her beautiful body and her husky laughs.

The boy took whatever the girl gave him. If she only wanted to give him her body, well, he'd take it gladly. If hurting him made her feel strong, well, he'd wear his scars with honour.

In return, the boy gave the girl everything she wanted. She wanted darkness; he turned off the lights. She wanted quiet; he stopped talking. She wanted uncomplicated; he hid his heart.

But even the girl wasn't immune to the irrational mathematics of sex, and love. One plus one doesn't always equal two. Two broken hearts, don't always make a whole. A year of kisses isn't always greater than a week of friendship. And it's impossible to take a piece of someone, without giving a part of yourself in return.

She didn't know when it happened, she felt no monumental shift, no sudden overwhelming sense of self. It was subtle and slow, like the trees losing their leaves in autumn, or the waves gradually eroding the faces of the cliffs. But somehow the boy had managed to melt some of the ice she'd packed around her heart. She didn't know when or where, but at some point he'd managed to make the days bearable.

Perhaps it was the night, when he had sprained his hand, and she'd buttoned his shirt for him while he trailed kisses along her collarbone. Or maybe it was the night he'd lifted the couch up for her, so she could collect the loose change she'd dropped while running to answer the phone.

She'd never really know, when she'd began to love the boy. God, love? Love. She loved him. As she sat on the hard wooden floor, she traced his name in the dust. Jake. Jacob. Jacob Black. "Leah?" the boy called, his voice muffled by the door "honey, come on let me in." Leah pushed herself up off the floor slowly, enjoying the stretch in her muscles. "Don't call me honey" she said, as she opened the door. Barefoot and bare-chested, Jacob stood before her. He was so tall, and so overwhelming standing in her doorway. "Oh" he said, surprise lacing his voice "I didn't think you'd actually answer the door." As she stepped out onto the porch, Leah took his hands firmly in her own, and looked up into eyes. "Jacob" she began, in a strong voice "I'm done. I'm done with all the secrets, and all the lies, and all of my crap." She gave his hands a firm squeeze, and gave him a small smile. "I know I sound like an absolute moron, but I'm just so sorry for everything I've put you through." Her voice cracked, and inexplicably she felt her eyes beginning to tear up. "And I love you. I love you so fucking much. And I just…" She let go of his hands, and rubbed at her eyes angrily. "Damn it, I can't stop crying." Jacob, pulled Leah into his chest, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Shh... Shh" he whispered into her ear. "Shh, Leah, it's okay. It's alright now love."

The girl and the boy stood pressed together, their arms locked around each other. Together they stood; tall, strong, tentatively hopeful. Eventually, the stars and the moon slowly faded away, and the darkness of the sky slowly receded. The sky began to lighten, and finally the sun began to rise. The dawning of a new day had come at last.


End file.
